Untitled AU
by Apollyon Angel
Summary: *Teaser-ish* Set in a medival setting, Lieutenant Nakano Hiroshi has come to the capital from his home in Kyo'to'cho to check up on his old friend, Shuichi, after hearing many strange rumors. Unfortunately, Shuichi is not forthcoming with information, e


*Untitled* 1/?  
Author: Apollyon Angel  
Genre: AU, medieval, angst, romance  
Pairings overall: Shuichi+Yuki/Yuki+Shuichi, Hiroshi+Ayaka, Tohma+Miyako  
  
Warnings: Shounen ai. OOC based on AU environment. I'm writing this as it comes, but I'm going to try to keep it vaguely similar to the original plot, up to a point. Therefore there may be the following: Shu-angst, Yuki-angst, violence, swearing, NCS (rape), and for my story the addition of lots of leering older men, possible battle flashbacks (gore), and any number of other possibly mind-warping fun things! Unbeta'd.  
  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, places and such do not belong to the author. Some of the unrecognizables, too...  
  
Notes: I have very limited knowledge of ancient Japan, so this is not only an AU, but an Alternate World, too. I'm not even going to try to be historical, sorry! I can't even be sure if I'll finish this, between the thready plot line, my slacker muse and my health problems, I'm not very dependable. _  
  
Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this.  
*******************************************  
  
  
The courtyard was barely illuminated with lantern light. The cold stones gathered pale, gray mists like ghosts gathering their strength to escape the inevitable dawn. The thick shadow of night still reigned over the landscape from the open fields surrounding the castle in steppes of dirt to the south--left barren and alone for the winter months--to the lush forest to the north and west where snow held fast to the branches, weighing them down to the breaking point. Only the sliver of blue-white hue spilling over the slopes of the mountains to the east gave any reassurance that the darkness wouldn't remain forever.  
  
Lieutenant Nakano Hiroshi was one of the few people to witness the sight, standing at the edge of the dark training field, hidden somewhat in the wake of the castle's imposing form. He watched a familiar shadow dance in the blackness and only smirked as the dawn's first cresting rays caught up with their surroundings, bringing to light the slight, yet deadly form.   
  
The pale red-gold tints of the new light stung the green grass, warping their lush hue to a dull mud color, muting the vibrancy of the flowers in the extensive gardens beyond, but the light only enhanced the other's features to perfection. Moving slowly, it first touched the boy's hair, turning the shagging, sweat-beaded mess into a fire of dark rubies and diamonds. The sword in his hands caught the weak rays and became a blinding serpent of white fire.   
  
Sweat dropped from the figure as he fought off imaginary foes with ferocity that made Hiroshi's sword arm twitch unconsciously, his smile growing only fonder as he remembered all the times he had been at the receiving end of the slim form's fierce attacks. Finally, the sword wielder parried sharply and thrust upwards, a shot to the neck, Hiroshi imagined from the posture of the smaller body, then returned to his fighting stance, bowed, crouched, and sheathed his sword. (1)  
  
The pink-haired warrior wipe the sweat off his brow while trying to slow his breath, the heart-shaped face flushed with exertion and cold from the pre-dawn workout. The lieutenant's face turned down in a frown, though, as the figure sighted him, waved cheerfully, and began tromping over in a manner that contrasted greatly with the smooth forms that he had been performing only moments earlier.   
  
"HIIIRO!" the boy blurted loudly, attaching himself to his friend with little warning and a bit more force than necessary. Hiro, quite used to the treatment, quickly regained his balance and respond with a warm, 'Good morning,' which was promptly overlooked. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Ah, Shuichi, I am only fulfilling my lifelong duty of making sure you're not getting into too much trouble," the lieutenant replied seriously, setting his jaw to hold back a smile at the pout that formed on his friend's lips.  
  
"Hey, be nice! I don't get into near as much trouble now that you're married!" Shuichi argued ineffectively. His violet eyes shimmered with mirth and his mouth pulled up in a smile brighter than the noontime sun. Hiro almost rolled his eyes at the sight.   
  
Even he had trouble remembering Shuichi was his own age; a young man of similar background, training, and experience in war as he. His childish appearance had been the torment of his army life, only two years past. As Hiro allowed himself to be pulled towards the castle proper--only half-listening to his once comrade-in-arms as the young man spouted on and on about the smallest details of gossip, the most useless pieces of information and general babble--worry drew his mind farther back. To the days when they had first met.  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
The camp was a sprawling, muddy, and roaring chaos. Veterans from the front lines of the south Kyo'to'cho region had flooded the training grounds three days prior with loud boasts of deeds done in the midst of battle and drunken laughter that helped drown out the screams of pain from the medical tents.   
  
The new recruits stayed in huddled groups at the far end of the fields, their bright, unstained tunics were flags of their novice abilities and virginity of battle. Most hardened soldiers dismissed their presence all together, as a noble might do to the hunting dog under his table. Some openly laughed at their mistakes in practice and made cruel jesting comments of which novices would die first, which would freeze in the heat of battle, and who would die with soiled pants. There were also a few scarred, muscular men looked at their young forms too much like prey for their comfort.   
  
There was one boy in particular that drew their attention like flies to sweet fruit. Small and slim, with wide eyes and, unbelievably, pink hair; all the veterans had noticed him, as he had attracted the wondering gazes of his fellow recruits weeks earlier, and gaped at the sight. The boy had a face as open and friendly as his personality and a high tenor that hung in the air like the ring of raindrops on steel. He also had a blade almost as long as his body, a full foot longer and two inches wider than the army's standard issue, and yet he wielded it easily.  
  
So, thankfully, the first time the battered men had caught glimpse of him was during practice, which staved off the falseness of his delicate looking body and innocent manner or he might have been in far more trouble than he could imagine. No, he had enough troubles to start on his own, starting with the instructor, Lieutenant Sakano.  
  
Especially *that* day.   
  
The day of the military review for their camp. A few of the highest ranking officers and nobility were scheduled to make a sweep of the encampment; it was even whispered that the Crown Prince often rode with his war counselors to view his troops unknown. It was a normal, stressful, and celebrated event that was supposed to boost the moral of the soldiers and reaffirm their faith in their country.   
  
And it would have been normal, encouraging...except for Shindou Shuichi's presence.  
  
The ranks formed precisely, line after line of soldiers waited under the watchful eyes of their commanding officers. They had put on their best uniforms, shined and polished every metal, leather, and wooden surface, and as the sound of horse hooves drew near each man drew themselves to their fullest height, staring stoically straight ahead, as they had been trained.   
  
The novices had a hard time obeying the last action, occasionally risking a glance at the distant, mounted figures, wondering which of the small armada may be their ruler's Heir. They shift nervously from foot to foot, though it drew soft reprimands from their instructors and disdainful snickers from the veterans. One untested soldier, though, had really reason to be nervous: next to him, in their tight formation, there was a gap. He wanted to curse, but knew that would only draw attention faster.  
  
"Shindou?" A worried voice called from behind. The novice's heart dropped a little and he swallowed his curse. Shuffling through the ranks with dark, slightly panicked eyes, Lieutenant Sakano gaped at the small hole in his squad. Hiro winced inwardly, silently hoping his friend was dead so he would have a good excuse this time. His instructor turned in a full circle as if expecting his missing charge to be hiding some where in the ordered crowd. "Nakano?" Sakano's voice gained in pitch and fear as he questioned the redheaded novice with only, "Where?"  
  
Like he knew! Hiro could only give a helpless shrug, knowing he looked slightly ridiculous with his armor's shoulder plates flapping up and down. Sakano paled.  
  
"Having some trouble, Lieutenant Sakano?" a new voice drawled from the front. Hiro snapped back to full attention, but not without a good look at his superior's superior.   
  
The man on the horse looked down at their ranks with no little amusement, his smile drawing one's eye away from the hand resting comfortably on his crossbow. His fair, yellow hair was long, pulled back in a tail except for several strands that the wind had loosed during his ride. His tunic and armor were partially hidden from Hiroshi's view, but not enough to recognize the Commander's signal above their king's personal standard.  
  
"N-n-n-o, well, maybe--a-a little," Sakano stuttered, his face paling further. Suddenly he jerked down in a stiff bow, wailing, "Yes! Forgive me! One of my nov--"  
  
"ZERO TALENT!?!"  
  
The field froze. No one even dared breath, though Hiro's instructor looked ready to hyperventilate. Not a few novices dropped their weapons in surprise, but did not move to pick them up. All eyes swung to the right, just beyond Hiro's position, and while the ranks of soldiers broke slightly as the men craned to get a good look at the scene, his view was perfect.   
  
There wasn't really much to look at, baring the striking blonde situated smugly on his pure white charger staring down his nose at none other than Hiro's sparing partner, Shindou Shuichi--who had no doubt been the one who had bellow in outrage only seconds earlier. From the pale faces of the officers and veterans, Shuichi had *really* gotten himself into something this time. Hiro just prayed that the short-haired blonde was only a general or--  
  
"That's what I said, brat," the blonde man replied. "Have you not even the brains to stand in a line like these men?"   
  
Shuichi blushed furiously, opening his mouth to object, then (much to Hiro's relief) swallowed his anger. Somewhat. "Forgive me, I know my place in the formations, but my morning practice ran long. I'm sorry if I've--" Shuichi realized the man was paying his words little attention, if any. Indignation rose in the boy's blood. "Where do you get off calling me a brat, anyway?!"  
  
The blonde snorted, brushing aside the anger and circled the boy, moving his warhorse close enough for Shuichi to feel the animal's heated breath on his skin. He held his ground even as the beast's tail whipped out over his arm, trying hard not to acknowledge the intimidation. Finally the man leaned forward, reaching out his hand.   
  
Shuichi stiffened, readying for the blow he was sure was coming. He watched the long, pale fingers descend as if in slow motion, brushing his hair in their movement past his face. Shuichi felt the slight weight of the man's touch on the hilt of the long weapon slung over his shoulder. Relief flooded through him. The hand pulled back and the blonde's gaze connected with his. Shuichi released his the air in his lungs with a slight gasp. Unconsciously he had held it in when the blonde touched him and meeting those golden eyes knocked it out of him like a fist to the gut.   
  
Beautiful golden eyes. His awareness for the world transfixed and focused into those unique eyes. It took him a moment to realize the man was still speaking to him; another to translated the words as the young fighter's full attention was still on the man's eyes. Cold, flat eyes. "And what do you really think you'll be doing with a sword like that in close combat, hmm? A little boy like you?"  
  
And he was released from the spell--Shuichi's vision flared back and filled with red hatred, whether at this pale stranger or at his own strange behavior, he wasn't sure, but he was sure of his wounded dignity. "LITTLE BOY?! You...! I assure you, I can handle my sword very well, jerk!"   
  
The older man frowned and looked the fiery young soldier over with a cold, appraising gaze. "I'm not impressed with your childish yelling or your boasts. You *do* have spirit, boy," the blonde spoke on in his well bred baritone, "but the question is: what will you do with it?"  
  
Silence held the field. All waited for Shuichi's answer with anticipation. Hiro's fists clenched to stop their tremors; his heart was pounding so loudly he didn't think he'd be able to hear the pink-haired novice's answer if he yelled it. Oblivious of the tension around him Shuichi tilted his head, lifted a pink eyebrow and ineloquently responded, "Huh?"  
  
Several guffs of disbelief escaped from the officers; unnoticed by most, Lieutenant Sakano fell over.   
  
The blonde's horse suddenly pivoted, turning its rider to face the disorganized ranks of men. "Listen up! You've dedicated your lives to this army and your lives to your country, but where do your hearts lie? On the battlefield Fate gives hand to those who keep their heads and their hearts in focus! Anger, indignation, frustration, envy--these are not the weapons of a warrior, nor should you put your faith in your arm or your sword.   
  
"You could take up the greatest of swords and learn the forms of fighting to perfection, but," his eyes swung over the stunned men, settling for a moment to the far right where Shuichi still stood alone, "if you have no idea of what you're truly fighting for, how can you hope to be victorious?   
  
"While you're out there, fighting our nation's enemies, remember the faces of your loved ones; your parents who came before you, your children to come after you; the beauty of our land that would be destroyed under our enemy's armies; remember our ancestors! They fought to bring peace and freedom for this land just as you will and as they were victorious, so will you be, if you put your spirit into more than your sword, but into your nation!"  
  
Cheers and yells broke the air, oaths of loyalty mixed with battle cries, blending incoherently in the men's eagerness to show their support of this unknown officer and their kingdom. Hiro stood still, as if the eye of the storm, and watch the blonde man with awe. With just his voice he touched them like sparks on dry grass and like a thirsty horse led to water, they lapped up the words with greed. Just who was this man?   
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Hiro shook his head, his thoughts of the past falling away as his old comrade bade him to take a seat in his humble chambers. While the young lieutenant watched, Shuichi merrily washed his torso from a basin of cold water on the dresser; his hands ran over the jagged scars and smooth flesh with little notice of the difference. Finally he grabbed a garishly colored tunic from a hook on the back of his door and shrugged it on, adjusting the odd ties of contrasting colors with practiced ease. All the while he kept up his constant chatter, asking Hiroshi questions about his family and life since they had last met, keeping their talk light and carefully maneuvering away from anything more important than the grand attributes of rice.  
  
Hiro's mind wandered, as did his feet, around the room, eyeing the slight film of dust on every surface and the lack of personal touches in the room. Moving on a hunch Hiro crossed the small room and brought his hand down sharply on the bed. The dust rose thicker than the morning mist. With confusion and frustration rising, Hiro turned to confront Shuichi.   
  
The violet eyes were fixed on the settling clouds of dust floating around the bed. The young man's face was set in a resolute smile even as he turned his gaze to meet Hiro's green glare. He could read the accusing questions in that familiar face as easily as he could read a book cover. But then, he had been warned long ago never to judge by that standard.  
  
Shuichi glanced at the small window just past Hiro's broad shoulders, noting the patch of sunlight growing on the sill. "His Majesty will be rising in ten minutes. You have five to ask me your questions and get them out of your system. Whether or not we will remain friends after that...is your choice."  
  
Hiro's eyes widened and he stepped back slightly, as if he had been physically struck by the smaller man's bluntness. "Shuichi, no matter what, we will always be friends," Hiro replied, reassuring himself as well as his companion.   
  
Seeing no positive response his heartbeat double-timed as his questions silently swirled in the gap between them. Was Shuichi really serious? Obviously so...then where should he start?   
  
"What has being going on here? There are serious rumors spreading like wildfire, even up to Kyo'to'cho, and you're the subject of all of them! You can't tell me you don't know..."  
  
Shuichi nodded, playing with the bright orange ties of his shirt, but he said nothing in reply. Even though he knew it would only frustrated and hurt his friend more, he kept his silence. Time ticked by as Hiroshi silently pleaded with his friend to explain, instead he got: "Four minutes."  
  
"Shit!" Hiro ran his hand through his long auburn hair. "Fine! You want me to ask, I'll ask, but you'd better answer straight with me!"  
  
Shuichi ducked his head, the pink of his hair contrasting on the bright yellow of his tunic. Hiro was tempted to make his first question, 'Where the Hell did you get that shirt?' But he held that back for later.  
  
"While we were walking in none of the guards saluted you, why?"  
  
Shuichi's mouth dipped downward, but pulled back into a smirk. "They haven't for quite a few months. A little while after I stopped wearing my uniform. They have lost respect for me, I think."  
  
Once again Hiro had to control his outraged thoughts. "Why aren't you in uniform? You are still--"  
  
"I am His Majesty's loyal subject. He did not approve of me wearing his standard so I changed," his hand waved vaguely at his odd clothing, his eyes, though, looked everywhere but. He couldn't bring himself to look at his friend, either. The pain was obvious. "I still hold my position, though, he cannot take that from me."  
  
Hiro blew out a sigh of relief, but that answer only touched the tip of the iceberg. He gathered his dignity and prayed he wouldn't shred Shuichi's with his next inquiry. Looking down on the dust riddled mattress he almost whispered his words. "If you haven't been sleeping in your room, where have you been?"  
  
"His Majesty's."  
  
"Shuichi!" the captain breathed, clenching his fists--a habitual reaction to his feelings of helplessness that he had developed in their years of friendship. "Then why--?" Hiro cut off as his friend's violet eyes lifted to him once again. His eyes spoke more than enough to stop Hiro from continuing. "Damnit, if you won't even come clean with me how can I help you?!"  
  
Shuichi giggled, his relaxed manner returning at once. "I never asked for your help, silly." He bounced over to his friend and slung an arm over Hiroshi's neck, standing on tiptoe to reach. "I am glad you're here, Lieutenant! We'll have some fun and get into all the trouble we missed since you married!"  
  
Their eyes met, close up and unbreakable contact, words that went unspoken in the desperate need to salvage their friendship passed and faded. And Hiro had to acknowledge what he saw: determination, pleading, courage, and hurt. His former partner had made his decision and there was little that he could say to dissuade that. Hiro nodded, smiling sadly as he beat down his protective instincts. Shuichi grinned back, the first genuine smile since the practice fields.  
  
"I'm glad to see you, too, Captain Shindou," Hiro's smile was strained and fell all too quickly. Shuichi's faded, too.  
  
"I have to go," the boy whispered. "Yuki will be up soon."  
  
Hiroshi grimaced, but nodded. The strong arm around his neck slipped off as Shuichi moved towards the door, the bells on the cuffs of his sleeves jingling slightly as he reached for the door handle.   
  
"Hiroshi?" the boy paused at the doorway.  
  
"Yes?"   
  
"If you come to court today, please," the boy asked with his old, more commanding tone, "don't make a scene."  
  
"Is that an order, sir?" Hiro countered, allowing a little bitterness to slip out.  
  
"It is but the humble request of the court jester." The door slid shut. 


End file.
